Thousand Years
by Scarlet Tabby
Summary: A young man was cursed during the First Crusade for his selfish love of a woman he sought to claim before his time. He is reborn in 3 lives throughout history, waiting for his true love to find him once again. MMAD, One-Shot


****Author's Note: This story is inspired by Christina Perri's A Thousand Years, which I would have never thought to pair with Albus and Minerva. However, I was listening to it and this idea popped into my head. So seven hours later, here's the longest oneshot I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it. Please review with your thoughts. :)

**Thousand Years**

Part I

Albinius Alexius III marched through a muddy swamp, weighed down by the heavy armor, shield and sword that were his protection from what was to come. Being from a papal family, he was expected to join the Crusade to the Holy Land and drive off the barbarians who threatened that home of Christianity. But the Holy Land was across the mountains and rivers and seas, and the Franks still had a very long distance to travel. It would be months before Albinius would need his sword for anything at all.

But in truth, Albinius Alexius III could not have cared less about the holy mission in front of him and the rest of these men. The church had brought nothing but despair to him, and he resented it and the religion it governed. What did he care if the Muslims took control of Bethlehem? What difference did it make to his life if Jews were the rulers of Jerusalem?

Of course, he would never ever admit these thoughts to anyone else. Albinius would do what was expected of him, just as he always had and always would. He thought of his sickly mother who always seemed happier when Albinius was bringing pride to the family. He remembered his father, may he rest in peace, who, on his deathbed, told Albinius that the Alexius line depended on him. It was quite a lot of pressure for a young man who wanted nothing more than to read and draw and explore his own backyard.

So here he was, marching with his company to a foreign land for the glory of the Savior Jesus Christ. Albinius, who was a learned student of the bible, couldn't help but think that Christ would be somewhat displeased over a brutal war in his name, but it certainly wasn't Albinius' place to say anything.

One month later saw the company's first battle. It was brutal and bloody and a disgrace. Albinius was a strong fighter and slew many men, but he did it with a heavy heart. The loss of human life—Christian, Muslim or Jew—was a sin far greater than any other.

Yet Albinius quickly became the greatest warrior of all the Franks. Time and time again he was asked to command armies of men, and time and time again he refused. Power was not what Albinius wanted. Power would do him no good. He just wanted to go home and live the rest of his life in peace.

All that changed, however, about two years after Albinius left home. In a village outside of Jerusalem lived the family of a Jewish high priest. They lived their lives in the tradition of the Old Testament, as though the Temple of King David still stood. The priest had a daughter of marriageable age named Binah. She was unlike any woman anywhere. While her father was a priest and still adhered to the old ways, he allowed his eldest daughter to assist him in his rituals and prayers. Binah was the most educated, most intelligent and most clever girl in all the lands, not to mention the most beautiful. With her father to guide her, she was the envy of all who knew her.

Albinius met her when he had left the army's camp to explore the forest outside Binah's village. He heard the most hauntingly beautiful sound and followed it to the source. There was Binah, gently swaying in the twilight breeze, chanting songs of praise to the Lord above. Her long black hair whipped around her thin pale body. Her eyes were closed, so Albinius watched her for a while. Suddenly, as though she sensed his presence, she went silent and her eyes snapped open. They were a dark green like the needles on the trees in Albinius' homeland. She stared at him, unmoving, and he did the same.

Finally, he spoke. "You are not afraid of me?" Being a learned man, he did his best to converse in Hebrew, the language of her people.

"No," she answered simply. She just continued to stare at him.

"My name is Albinius. I am from a distant land. My men have entered your homeland uninvited and unwelcome. We are destroying this land and its people, and for that I apologize. I did not wish to come here, but if I did not, I would have never met you, and for that I am grateful."

She gave a small smile which seemed to stop Albinius' heart. "Why should you be grateful for meeting me? You know nothing about me. Aren't I your enemy?"

"No man or woman who has done nothing to wrong me could ever be my enemy. And you are beautiful beyond compare, and your voice seems to cast a spell over me. Even if I never see you again, which I hope will not be so, I shall never forget you as long as I live."

"I have cast no spell on you, Albinius, but my father may. I am Binah, daughter of Cohain, the high priest. He knows ancient magic that could be disastrous for you. I am not meant for you. You must forget me and leave this place, never to return. You are wise and kind, unlike many men in this world. I do not wish for any harm to come to you." Binah turned and raced away through the trees.

Albinius Alexius III was never one to let anything go without a fight. There was something about this girl that he suddenly wanted and needed. His very heart felt like it would cease beating if he could not have her. He quickly ran to follow her.

She was nowhere to be found. Albinius got lost in the forest for hours before he found himself back at his camp. He slept restlessly, dreaming of Binah's sharp green eyes gazing into his.

Day after day, he returned to the forest to find her, but he never did. But one day, an old man found him.

"I know who you seek, and I know why. But you must know, wise traveler, she is not meant for you."

Albinius became angry at the old man. "Who are you to say who she is meant for?"

The man smiled, his intelligent brown eyes sparkling with knowledge. "I am her father. I have great reason to protect my daughter. She is special, as you have no doubt seen. Be patient, Albinius. You will find her again one day."

"How can I find her again if she is not meant for me, as you say?"

Cohain smiled and chuckled. "You are clever. Well done. What I should have said is that she is not meant for you _yet._ But when your time comes, I know that you will love her as she deserves. In return, her love will make you the happiest of men. It will be worth the wait, I promise you."

Albinius could not understand what Cohain was telling him. Albinius was not a patient man. But he was a very clever man. If he wanted Binah, he would have her, and he would trick the old man to get her. "I understand, sir. But please, may I see her just once more? I will never bother your family again."

"Very well," Cohain responded with a nod. "Return to this place just before dawn. She will be waiting. You will have until the sun has risen in the sky to be with her. Then you must go."

Albinius rode through the forest on a horse he borrowed from his commander. Just as was promised, Binah was waiting for him with a lovely smile on her face. He galloped toward her, but she stood her ground unflinchingly. She did not even call out when he grabbed her around her waist and took her up on his steed. They rode away as fast as possible. Albinius would take her away from all she knew and create a life for them somewhere far away. He would have Binah all to himself.

She was silent throughout their journey. Eventually, though, the horse needed to rest. They rested by a small creek. Albinius took his prize in his arms and held her close, whispering in her ear, "I will give you a good life, my Binah. I will love you as you deserve."

Binah pulled away ever so gently. "You cannot. You are not ready."

"I am ready! I love you and you are mine," he replied angrily.

"You still have so much to learn, Albinius. Does it matter to you at all that I do not love you in return?"

"You will learn to love me."

She shook her head. "It is not yet our time. You have dared to defy what has been and what will be. You will be punished, as will I, for I have allowed you to take me away. I know that one day I will love you in a way that will give us happiness all our days, but it is not now. It is not this life."

Albinius was confused and angered by her words, but before he could respond, a group of horses burst into their clearing. It was Albinius' company. For stealing his commander's horse, attempting to flee with a Jew, and deserting the holy mission, he would be killed. Binah, for simply being a Jew, would be killed as well.

She bravely accepted her fate. Her green eyes were flinty with determination. Binah stared straight at Albinius as two men held him captive, another two held her, and the final three plunged their swords into her body. Tears streamed down Albinius' face as the blood and life force trickled from her body. The men holding her were ordered to toss her body in the creek.

Next it was Albinius' turn to die. The commander used Albinius' own sword to plunge through his stomach and into the tree behind him. "You will die slowly, Albinius Alexius, giving you time to remember your sins that lead you to this fate. May God have mercy on your soul." The men rode away, leaving Albinius to bleed to death.

"Albinius, you were warned to be patient. Instead you were hasty and selfish. You will one day be a great man, but you have failed in this life. Love selflessly. When you have learned to do so, you will meet her again." Albinius looked up into the eyes of Cohain. The priest's expression was one of despair. "But you have brought my daughter to this fate. As punishment, I have put a spell on you. You will always remember this in every life you live. This is both a blessing and a curse, however. You will have skills that will surpass all others. You will have untold power. But you will always be unfulfilled, waiting for the day when she will one day be yours. The spell will be broken when you find one another again as you are meant to. It may be in one hundred years or five thousand years, I do not know. But you will always remember what you have done."

The priest's words faded away and Albinius Alexius III left this world. His body had died, but his soul lived on, waiting for the next life he would inhabit and the chance to right his wrongs.

* * *

Part II

The year was 1307. Album Bourdon, a quiet and bookish citizen of France, lived his life quietly and peacefully. France was at war with Flanders, and Album, recalling his former life and his distaste for bloodshed, avoided battle at all costs. He concerned himself with knowledge and learning. He especially wished to learn as much as he could about his own curious powers. It seemed that part of the spell the old priest had placed on him gave him the ability to do incredible things. Album had been known to make objects fly, prevent harm to him and others, remember vast amounts of information, and even change things, living or inanimate, from their form to another. The magic was mysterious and fascinating and Album loved it.

His abilities were discovered by a secret group of scholars, the Knights Templar. The knights quickly made Album their leader. Album accepted the powerful position with great excitement. He had resisted being a leader of men in his last life. Doing something different in this life might bring him closer to finding his love once more.

How wrong he was. King Philip IV was a very strict Christian and sought out heresy, stamping it out wherever it appeared. The magic that Album and the Knights Templar performed were, in the king's mind, beliefs and actions of the devil himself.

All sixty of the Knights Templar were captured and imprisoned on Friday, October 13th. Their dungeon prison was dark, dirty, dank and cold. Four of their number died from disease, while two perished under relentless torture. Album, as the leader, was subject to the most brutal treatment, but his magic kept him safe.

One night, an old woman sneaked into the dungeon to speak to Album. She was wrinkled and frail, and all of her hair had long since turned white. But her eyes were deep green and sparkled with an inner strength and wisdom. Album looked into her eyes and felt his heart skip a beat. He had found her once again.

"I have heard from the guards that you withstand their treatment with incredible resilience. They say you have powers of which they know not," the old woman whispered to Album.

"Yes, this is correct. My magic protects me, but I fear for not much longer." Album smiled at the woman as he spoke to her. She was old and feeble, but it was clear to him that Binah's spirit was within her.

"You must never reveal my secret," she told him frantically. "I have powers like yours. I fear that my son will notice them and kill me as he has the others like us."

"Your son?"

"King Philip. I am his mother, formerly Queen Isabella. The kingdom believes me dead. I was mortally sickened when my youngest son was born nearly forty years ago. I healed in secret and have hidden myself in this castle. I have never met another who shared powers like mine."

"I am happy to meet you, Your Majesty. But you must continue to live in secret. If you can, I would suggest you escape this place. At the very least, you can live free of fear."

"You are very kind. I think I will do as you suggest. Thank you. I wish you the best." She reached into his cell and squeezed his hand with her bony one. His grip was weak from torture, but hers was strong and warm. Album smiled wider, feeling the warmth of her spirit spread over his weary body.

"Thank you. I hope you live the rest of your days in happiness. I wish this for you more than you could possibly know."

Queen Isabella smiled once more, let go of Album's hand, and disappeared into the darkness.

On May 11th, 1310, fifty four Knights Templar were burned at the stake. Album, weakened from years of torture and hunger and disease, had lost the strength in his magic. He lasted longer than his companions, but eventually felt the flames lick at his body. Amid the excruciating pain were visions of green eyes.

* * *

Part III

In 1626, Albio Dumblodorino worked as a librarian and translator for Cassiano dal Pozzo, secretary to Cardinal Barberini in Rome. Dal Pozzo was a grand patron of the arts. He trusted Albio to keep the grand library and gallery in order while he worked on more important matters for the Cardinal. Albio lived a very quiet life with books, sculptures, paintings and musical compositions. As with his last life, this one was unfulfilled. It lacked much purpose, and, of course, it lacked his love.

What no one in this life knew, however, was that Albio was well over one hundred years old. Living such a quiet life had allowed him to grow old, with the help of his magic. In the privacy of the library, Albio was able to spend hours developing his magical powers and honing his special abilities. He was self-taught, but he was wildly clever and enjoyed pushing himself to the limit of what he could do. So far, that limit had yet to be reached.

One spring day, Albio was interrupted in his experiments when an unexpected guest entered his library.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry! I was simply exploring the palazzo. It was not my intention to interrupt you, Signore." The intruder was a woman. She was homely looking, with a plump figure under a plain dress and disheveled black hair pulled up on her head, but what struck old Albio were her eyes. They were the exact sparkling, intelligent, strong, beautiful green of the love he was waiting for.

"No interruption at all, Signorina. Please, come in. I am Albio Dumblordorino, librarian to Signor dal Pozzo."

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Signore. I am Artemisia Gentileschi. I was invited to stay by our mutual patron. It seems my humble work in Florence made a favorable impression."

"Ah yes, Signorina Gentileschi, the wonderful painter! I have admired your work for quite a while. Not since Caravaggio has there been such an interesting artist in Rome," Albio said, greeting her with a chaste kiss on her hand. A shiver went up his aged spine when they touched. Once again, it was not their time. He was far too old, nearly a century her senior. She would find happiness elsewhere. Albio vowed then and there to help her find her joy.

Artemisia blushed and smiled. "I am flattered you are familiar with my paintings. It is an honor to return to Rome with such notoriety, however small it might be."

"Your notoriety is well deserved. The Academia in Florence was so fortunate to have you as a pupil. Anyone who has seen your interpretation of Judith and Holofernes can clearly see your talent, not to mention your unique perspective."

"Your words are too kind. I have been lucky to have wonderful teachers."

"You are far too modest, Signorina. There is something special in you. You are indeed destined for wonderful things."

Albio and Artemisia were interrupted by a knock at the door. A servant came to collect Artemisia for supper. Albio was left once again on his own.

Artemisia Gentileschi stayed and worked in dal Pozzo's home for the next ten months. When she was not attending parties with dal Pozzo, eating meals in the lavish dining room, or working on her paintings, she could be found in the library with Albio. They had become very close friends. He acted as a father figure, instructor, and confidant. They spoke of anything and everything. Artemisia discussed her failed marriage and the pain of seeing her daughter, Prudenzia, only a few times each year. She also confided that she feared her best days were behind her. Albio tried to convince her otherwise, but he had seen her recent paintings and secretly agreed with her doubts.

Two months into their friendship, Albio spent an hour observing Artemisia at her work. She was becoming increasingly frustrated in her painting. In a moment of pique, she threw her brushes to the ground and screamed at her canvas. It burst into flame. Realizing what she had done, Artemisia gasped and the canvas returned as though nothing had befallen it. From that time on, Albio focused his energy on teaching her about using and controlling her magic.

"Albio," Artemisia asked one day, "why isn't a kind, intelligent man like you married with a house full of children?"

Albio chuckled. She was so curious about everything, always searching for answers. "It is not my time. I must be patient and wait for the one woman whose love will make me the happiest of men."

"So you simply have not met a woman you wish to make your wife?"

"Yes and no. It is very complicated. My joy will come, if not in this life then perhaps the next. In the meantime, I will do my best to bring happiness to a worthy woman like you in any way I can. Teaching you and helping you as I have makes me happy enough. I have no need for a wife."

Artemisia lowered her head and said in a low voice, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea that I was so important to you."

"Of course you are. You must certainly know your worth, not only to me but to the world. You are a wonderful woman, Artemisia Gentileschi, and being your friend is all I could ever ask."

"I'm leaving, Albio. I've accepted a commission in Venice. I leave next month."

Albio regarded her closely. "Is it a good commission? One worthy of your skill?"

She smiled. "Yes, I believe it is."

"Then I am beyond happy for you, my dear. Your magical abilities are flourishing, and I have no doubt that you will continue your study when you are away from me. You must do what is best for you. And besides, in Venice you will be closer to your little Prudenzia. It won't do to have her grow up so far from her mother."

"You are right, as usual. I thank you, my friend, for all you have done for me."

"It is my pleasure, I assure you."

One month later, Artemisia Gentileschi left Rome to work in Venice. Soon after, Albio had the strangest dream. He was dancing a waltz with the most beautiful woman. It was not Binah or Isabella or Artemisia, but it was her. She was slim and shapely with soft pale skin. She wore her shiny black hair pulled back in a tight bun. She smiled at him with such joy and love. And those same green eyes sparkled with the strength and wisdom of all the years he had known her.

That night, Albio Dumblodorino slipped away from this life, waiting, as always, for what was to come in the next.

* * *

Part IV

The twentieth century was kind to Albus Dumbledore. It held the perfect blend of excitement, peace, notoriety and learning for his taste. This was his favorite lifetime by far. He was powerful and strong and brave, but maintained the wisdom of his past lives. He had learned from his mistakes. He was a man of action, but not without careful thought and planning. He tried everyday to be selfless and patient, and so far he was succeeding.

Hogwarts was the perfect place for him. It played to all of his strengths. Teaching suited Albus, and being Deputy Headmaster and Head of Gryffindor House brought added importance to his life that he hadn't felt since he taught Artemisia. Yes, he had discovered the twelve uses for dragon's blood, but he was much happier teaching than he was researching. Albus left the Flamels in favor of working at his school.

And isn't it wonderful that he did?

He found her much quicker than he thought he would. She was sorted into his House on his very first day of term as a professor. Minerva McGonagall. Yes, the green eyes were hidden behind square rimmed glasses, but the bespectacled child was charming, bright and fiercely talented. It seemed to Albus that her soul grew closer and closer to perfection in each life. Isabella was strong and brave, but overly cautious and lacked the talent and initiative. Artemisia was talented and strong, but lacked practical wisdom and self-confidence. Little Minerva seemed perfected. However, seeing as she was so young, Albus resigned himself to being nothing more than her teacher. Perhaps he could develop a friendship with her as he had with Artemisia. No matter what, however, he would be sure that this little girl would have the happiest, most fulfilled life he could possibly provide for her, even if they never met after her graduation.

How wrong Albus was. Minerva took an immediate liking to him. She saw that he was the only teacher to see how skilled and clever she was, and was eager to agree to private lessons with him each week. Transfiguration seemed to be her gift. It was certainly her favorite subject. Every Sunday, they met in his office to talk and work on new spells for her. Even with the many breaks in their meetings during her sixth year due to the war in Europe and Albus' important role therein, Minerva's magic grew and blossomed. She was even a registered animagus by the time she left school.

Minerva graduated in 1946 as Head Girl and top of her class. Albus could not have been prouder. She had grown into a fine young woman. She was smart and funny and talented and quite beautiful. But Albus, being two decades her senior, kept a professional distance. He sometimes got the feeling that she had a bit of a crush on him, but a young girl often develops these mild feelings for any male who pays so much attention to her and concerns himself so personally in her success and happiness.

Albus thought that was was the end of his relationship with the goddess with the green eyes. He was able to use his connections in the ministry to get her a position of the Committee for Experimental Charms. They had never hired someone so young, but Minerva's magical talent and Albus' recommendation were unprecedented as well. He received letters from her every so often over the years. She seemed happy and busy, but unmarried. It struck Albus as odd, seeing how she was so pretty and smart and kind. Yes, she was often serious-minded, but Albus, being endlessly childish and silly, rarely had trouble making her laugh. Still, Albus held high hopes that she would find love.

Everything changed in 1956. Headmaster Dippet died, and Albus, as Deputy, was made Headmaster. He had to find a new Head of Gryffindor, Transfiguration professor, and Deputy, all before the new term began in four short months. The Board of Governors trusted Albus' judgment and told him many times that they would approve anyone he chose for any of the three positions.

His logic told him to run an ad in the Daily Prophet and interview the applicants, but something inside him, the part of him that remembered all those lives he had lived without his love, told him to write to Minerva and ask her. So he did.

_Dear Miss McGonagall,_

_As you may know, Headmaster Dippet has passed away, leaving me as the new Headmaster with no Deputy, no Head of Gryffindor, and no Transfiguration professor. In my professional capacity, I would like to offer all three positions to you. Knowing you as I do, I'm sure you'll gladly accept the teaching position, but protest by saying you are not qualified or experienced enough to be Deputy and Head. Let me assure you, my dear Miss McGonagall, that there is no one else I would rather have by my side as I go forward into this new territory of being Headmaster. I do hope you'll consider carefully and accept, though I can understand if you are happy enough at the ministry. I hear you are doing very well there, of which I am very pleased._

_ Please write back with your response at your earliest convenience. I look forward to hearing from you._

—_Albus Dumbledore_

Minerva was shocked to say the least when she received the letter. He was exactly right in saying that she felt she was unqualified to do all three jobs, but if Dumbledore had faith in her, perhaps she would do a good job. With a big smile, she wrote back.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_ I humbly accept the positions you have offered me. Your predictions on my feelings were accurate, but your faith in me gives me the confidence to endeavor to do my best for Hogwarts and especially for you. I look forward to seeing you soon. When should I move into the castle?_

—_Minerva McGonagall_

Albus was beyond thrilled with her response. The Governors approved his choice without hesitation, just as they promised. He instructed Minerva to arrive at the castle on the first of July. They had a private dinner in his Headmaster's office to celebrate her homecoming to Hogwarts. That had a grand time, catching up on lost time, discussing the latest magical developments, and playing chess with a glass of port after dinner.

Minerva settled into teaching and managing Gryffindor House phenomenally. She was such an asset to the school and to Albus as well. And he loved her. He tried to keep his distance and let her live her life free from his selfishness, as he had failed to do centuries before with Binah. But they worked so closely together and spent much of their free time in one another's company. They were best friends, without a doubt. And still, he tried to hide his feelings, strong as they were.

This went on for nearly five years. They shared everything except the love Albus kept so closely hidden. It dismayed him, however, that she seemed to have no interest in dating anyone or even spending time with anyone other than her friends in the castle and her own family. Eventually he felt secure enough in their friendship to ask her about it over a game of chess.

"Minerva, you may find this an impertinent question and are therefore not required to dignify this silly man with a response, but I must say I am curious."

She laughed. It was the most beautiful sound to his ears. "Albus, please just ask. I highly doubt I have any secrets from you."

"Are you romantically involved with anyone?"

"My, that is a rather impertinent question. But it is one I have no problem answering. No, Albus, I am not romantically involved in any way. I wish I were, but the reality unfortunately does not match my personal aspirations."

This answer dismayed Albus. The levity with which she treated her situation was disconcerting. Maybe she felt some unrequited love that was hopeless. "Whatever do you mean, Minerva? Perhaps I can help."

She sighed. "No, that's alright. It's quite hopeless."

"Nothing is hopeless, my dear. I want nothing more in this life than for you to live a happy, content life full of joy and love. Please let me help you in any way I can."

Minerva's green eyes filled with sadness and unshed tears. "Albus, no one can make you fall in love with me the way I am in love with you. I'm sorry you can't help me." She turned and rushed out the door, her emerald robes swishing behind her.

Albus sat in shock. Could this be what he had been waiting lifetimes for? Could this be their time? He wasn't sure, but now that he really stopped to think about it, this was he first time he had known her that they had been this close and shared this strong a relationship. Never before had he actually loved her as he did now. He did not want to possess her as he had Binah. He did not feel obligated to her as he had Isabella. He did not feel fatherly affection for her as he had Artemisia. He loved Minerva selflessly and patiently. It was just as Cohain had foretold he would have to in order to break the spell, this horrible curse that left him waiting for true love and happiness. This was it. This had to be their time. He couldn't lose her now.

Albus ran out of his office and sprinted to the fourth floor where Minerva's living quarters were. He banged on the wall beside the portrait guarding her rooms. She eventually answered. She was pale and her cheeks were stained with tears. Her brilliant green eyes were red from crying. It tore at Albus' heart to know he had been the cause.

"I'm sorry, Albus, but I really cannot speak to you just now. I'll see you at breakfast and I'll be fine. Don't worry about…"

Albus quickly silenced her with a passionate kiss. He held her close in his arms, caressing her lips with his, putting a millennium's worth of love in that kiss. When he finally broke away, she was limp in his arms, staring at him with surprise but also with elation.

"My darling Minerva, I must explain this to you." They sat on the sofa in her sitting room as he recounted his lives to her and her presence in each one. Minerva listened calmly and silently. Her expression was unreadable, but Albus continued until he got to the end, when he took her hand in his.

"So you see, Minerva, I have waited for you many lifetimes over. I have loved you for a thousand years and I will love you for a thousand more."

The green eyes that spoke his destiny sparkled with tears once more. "I feel as though I have died every day, waiting for you to love me. But it seems these last fifteen years are nothing compared to what you have gone through."

Albus smiled widely. "All along, I believed I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me, and I will never let it go, Minerva, I promise you. I love you with all my heart."

"I never thought I would hear you say those words," she replied.

"I never thought I would get to say them, my love."

Albus and Minerva shared another kiss. They could both feel the ancient magic in their embrace. Albus' spell was broken. Just as Cohain had said, it was a blessing and a curse. He was forced to remember the heartache of a millennium, but the rest of this lifetime with Minerva was more than a blessing than he had ever hoped for.

And, it goes without saying, they lived happily ever after for many lives to come.

**The End**

****A/N2: A few notes on the story: Binah is Hebrew for wisdom (see what I did there?); Cohain is the name if the priestly class of Israelites; The events regarding the Knights Templar in Part II are real, although Album is not a real person; Bourdon is the French word for bumblebee (Dumbledore is the Middle English word for bumblebee); Everyone except Albio in Part III are real people and their relationships are (mostly) accurate.

If you have any questions, comments, concerns, praise or criticisms, please let me know. I hope you liked it!


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